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Lost Man's River(46)

By:Peter Matthiessen


So Leslie got his money, and we heard it was thirteen thousand dollars, but others said it weren’t but about three hundred. Course in them days a field hand got paid twelve to fifteen dollars a month, so even three hundred dollars was a lot of money. One thing for sure, Les ransacked that little cabin, cause I seen it next day, but they said all he could come up with was a metal box that turned up maybe two years later in the woods. Said it contained three hundred silver dollars. Had a tough time rigging it onto the mule, and the mule had a tough time, too, had to walk lopsided. Les told that part to his cousin Oscar Sanford, who told Luther Kinard. Course we don’t know for certain he found anything at all, because there weren’t nobody left to tell the tale.

Our family field was directly west across the Fort White Road, so us Kinards all heard the shots, kind of far away. It was late afternoon in the autumn, 1909, and like everybody in that section, we were picking cotton. We heard one shot, then another, then in a little while another—sounded strange. We all remarked about them shots, but decided some neighbor was out hunting. Not till folks passed by next day and found Jim Sailor laying in the road did anyone know them poor coloreds over there was getting killed.

Les Cox done his killing while we was in the cotton patch, and his cousin Oscar went right by us on his mule. At the sound of those shots Oscar turned around and headed back the other way in quite a hurry, like he’d left something on the stove at home. Well, that same day my brother Luther was putting in a well for Sanfords, and he stayed that night at Oscar’s house, which was across the line in Suwannee County, and who should come by that evening but Les Cox, all pale and angry, out of breath. And Luther was pretty nervous, too, because he had been in the lynch mob and he knew Les knew it. But Leslie paid no attention to my brother, just jerked his head toward the door, and him and Oscar went outside to talk. Luther and Leslie played on the same baseball team, but Luther had no use for him, and later on my brother went over to the trial and gave some testimony that helped convict him.

So Leslie got arrested in the Banks case. And sure enough, a mob formed quick and come to get some justice. But a minister was present, and that minister put his arm around that fine-looking young feller, saying, “If you take the life of this young man, you must take mine, too.” Well, nobody had no use for that minister’s life, so some concluded that Leslie Cox was spared by the Lord’s mercy.

Leslie, Leo, Lem, Doc Cox, and Levi. I believe Leslie had three sisters and four brothers. If Leo Cox was your friend, all right, but if he was your enemy, look out! He was like Leslie that way. Sheriff Babe Douglass took Leo as his deputy so’s he wouldn’t be out looking for him all the time, but somebody killed Leo off—one of his own cousins, come to think of it—and darned if somebody don’t come along real quick and kill that cousin! My wife’s brother, who’s related to them Coxes, he claims it was Leslie who came back to revenge Leo, but that might be just my brother-in-law’s idea.

I guess I knew Lem Cox the best. Big likable sort of man. Lem never looked for any trouble, just lived down along the river, built him a shack, bootlegged some whiskey, sold a little fish bait for a living. Worms, y’know. Everything he could lay his hands on he spent up on whiskey. Got by best as he could, then coughed and died. Before he done that, Lem persuaded his daddy into mortgaging his farm, so pretty soon Will lost his land, then he died, too. Later on the youngest, Levi, bought back a few acres, and I reckon he is on there yet today. Got cancer, last I heard. His wife is crippled.

Yep, Levi Cox is still alive in Gilchrist County. And there may be a sister that married a Porter still living back in what old-timers call the Clay Woods. And maybe Les still comes to visit her, is what I heard. Few years ago, his brother Lem told a friend of mine that Leslie were not dead, said Les used to come around there pretty regular. Lem said he knew where his brother was hiding out but would never tell.

After they killed off the Tolens, people wouldn’t hardly mention one without the other, they’d say, Ed Watson and Les Cox, or Cox and Watson. But after Calvin Banks, it was just Cox, he had the blame for Bankses to himself. And because they was nigras, he might of got away with that one, too, except that people was dead certain that this feller had took part in them Tolen killings, so them nigras give ’em a last chance to get some justice. Even Leslie’s friends turned state’s evidence against him. Folks wanted that mean sonofagun out of the way.

Although Will Cox was good friends with the Sheriff from way back in his Lake City days, his boy was convicted for the rest of his natural life. Hearing that, Les got very upset. He told the judge, “You got no call giving no sentence like that to a young feller who can’t tolerate no cooped-up life! I weren’t cut out to make it on no chain gang!” Maybe the judge winked, as some has said, and maybe he didn’t. One thing for sure, the judge give Les the eye. Finally he said, “You’ll be all right, boy.” That judge knew what he was talking about, too.